


Castor and Pollux

by Riddle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Astronauts, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Haikyuu - Free Form, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining, Pining Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Protective Iwaizumi Hajime, Reunions, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Build, elements of Greek mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddle/pseuds/Riddle
Summary: “Which one are you?” He asked, looking up again, trying to find the twins hidden out in the stars. “Castor or Pollux?”Oikawa was silent.Iwaizumi rolled over to see him and saw that the shadows had fallen over his face; obscuring his eyes from sight. There was something dark in him that was silent and unreadable but also incredibly sad in an unspoken bittersweet sort of way that Iwaizumi couldn’t describe.“I haven’t decided yet.”————————————————————Astronaut AU in which Oikawa is an astronaut, with a penchant for Greek mythology and stargazing, on a mission to the ISS, and Iwaizumi is his childhood friend hiding a secret when he learns that Oikawa's mission has gone terribly wrong.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 16
Kudos: 85





	Castor and Pollux

Iwaizumi was driving when the call came in. 

He was rounding a corner—trying to clear his head and distract himself from everything going on—when the ringtone chimed out suddenly causing him to jump and swerve into the other lane. Carefully, he glanced down at the phone and saw it was an unknown number. Rolling his eyes, he reached over and silenced the phone absently. It was probably just a scam-caller or something after all. 

Moments later, he was stopped at a light, waiting for the red signal to change when his phone rang again. That same unknown number flashed at the top of his screen. 

He raised an eyebrow in curiosity but shook his head and moved his eyes back to the stoplight ahead. It was probably nothing…

This time, a little chirp followed the call, alerting Iwaizumi to a new voice message left by the caller. 

He scowled. That was weird. He wasn’t expecting any calls today…

In fact, his whole plan had been to avoid pretty much everyone and keep his mind on happier thoughts. 

This whole thing was really bugging him. Deep down in his gut, he felt instinctively that something was wrong—the same way that a fish knows how to swim or how a spider spins its webs. 

The light changed just as Iwaizumi was leaning over his car’s armrest, reaching to check his phone, and inspect that call a little closer. He dropped the phone back onto the passenger seat and pressed the gas pedal, pulling away from the intersection hastily. 

He tried to keep driving on, but he just couldn’t get that call out of his mind. What if it was important? If it really was just a robocall or some random wrong number why would they leave a message? Why would the same number call him twice in a row if it wasn’t important? 

After a few more miles of driving in tense silence, Iwaizumi yanked his wheel to the side and pulled over into the shoulder of the road with anxious irritation dripping off of him. 

He brought his phone up closer to his face so he could see the display more clearly, and the longer he stared, the more and more nervous he became. That number looked official and the details of the call in his phone log showed that it was made on a private line and was marked as urgent. 

The timing was all wrong. He felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face as he swallowed hard. This couldn’t be a mistake. 

Before he could come up with a smarter plan, the phone rang in his hand once again lighting up the screen with that unknown number in big bold lettering. 

He heaved out a strained sigh and swiped to answer the call. “...Hello?” 

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” A serious-sounding voice on the other end asked. 

“This is he,” he confirmed, feeling his stomach start to tense up. 

What was the deal with this? Why did he feel like a kid in trouble with the teacher at school all of a sudden? 

“Alright, hold please,” the voice said without identifying itself. 

A hold-tone started to play and Iwaizumi found himself chewing on his lip restlessly, waiting for someone to pick up and answer some of his questions. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” A new voice on the other end suddenly asked. 

“Yes?” He said with a growing exasperation evident in his voice. 

How many hoops were they about to make him jump through before they finally told him what was going on?

The longer they left him waiting, the more time his brain had to jump through every possible outcome—each one worse than the last. His earliest impulse told him something was wrong, and he hoped and prayed it wasn’t what he was thinking. 

“My name is Takahashi,” this new voice said, identifying himself formally, “I am calling from the Japanese sector of the NAL.”

Iwaizumi’s blood ran cold. 

“The National Aerospace Laboratory?” He asked in a low whisper hoping he had misunderstood. 

“That’s correct,” the voice said. 

Iwaizumi sat in silence for a moment feeling his heart rate start to increase. 

“Is this about… um, well, what is this about exactly?” He hesitantly asked, trying to keep those words—that name—out of his mouth and away from the hands of fate.

“We were given your contact information and were requested to get in contact with you by Commander Oikawa Tooru of the Andromeda VII crew.” 

Iwaizumi’s stomach dropped. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“What’s wrong?” He squeaked into his phone hearing the panic rising in his voice and his heart leap up through his chest. 

“We can’t discuss this over the phone, but we would like you to come into the home office. It is an important matter.” 

“Is he okay?!” Iwaizumi demanded. 

There was a pause. 

“As I said,” the voice began again with a forced coolness that was the farthest thing from comforting, “we cannot discuss this now. But, if you would com-“ 

“Fine!” Iwaizumi hissed through his clamped teeth. “Where do I go?” 

“We will send you directions.” 

The phone call disconnected abruptly. 

A moment later, Iwaizumi’s phone lit up with a text message containing an address and a security code. 

Iwaizumi felt his fingers curl around the phone and tighten before he combatively threw the device against the seat cushion beside him out of pure rage. His heart was pounding and his muscles were tense. He couldn’t seem to find his breath and his anger was starting to overcome him. 

Alone in his car, parked on the side of the road, Iwaizumi screamed until his throat was raw and sore. He felt a volatile cocktail of frustration and outrage boiling inside of him. This had been his worst nightmare. Giving in to his fury, he banged his hands against his dashboard and steering wheel, rattling the car down to its frame with his raging force until his palms were red and stinging. 

“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” His hoarse voice cursed viciously feeling as though he had swallowed a mouthful of searing hot gravel. 

He felt himself holding back tears as he reached to pick his phone up again with trembling hands and punch in the address. 

“Please be okay Tooru,” he found himself begging and he turned his key and felt the engine roar back to life. “Please, just please be okay…” 

——————————————————————

“That one there is Leo and just slightly to the west is Leo Minor,” Oikawa’s voice mused, reaching out a long arm and pointing to the stars overhead. “That extra bright star right at Leo’s bottom tip is called Regulus. It’s one of the brightest stars in our sky, and now they think its light might be so bright that it’s been obscuring our view of a white dwarf behind it.” 

Iwaizumi grabbed the binoculars hanging from a cord around Oikawa’s neck and followed his outstretched finger up to the sky. 

To him, all of the stars looked the same. He could see one that was a little brighter, probably the one Oikawa meant, but he was never much good at seeing the patterns or the constellations out there the way Oikawa did. 

“Wow,” Iwaizumi droned, squinting and trying feebly to make out a shape among all the mess. 

He dropped the binoculars, letting them lazily swing back into Oikawa’s chest. 

“It’s beautiful,” Oikawa’s voice sighed longingly next to him. 

He laid back easily into the damp dewy grass beneath them and let a smooth and real smile spread across his lips. His eyes stared intently at the sky with a kind of wonder and admiration that made Iwaizumi’s heartbeat flutter. 

Oikawa had a way of seeing the beauty in life. He saw patterns and shapes and adventure everywhere he looked. Tooru was one of those people whose heart and soul seemed to be made of music and stories instead of cells and atoms. Iwaizumi dreamed of knowing what the world looked like through those kinds of eyes. 

Eagerly, Oikawa pressed the binocular lenses to his eyes and moved his gaze over the horizon, searching the nighttime sky for something special. 

“Oh!” His voice jumped and Oikawa lurched up, bubbling with excitement and pointing his finger frantically to the center of the sky overhead when he finally found it. “And there! A little southwest of Leo is Gemini—like the zodiac.” Oikawa stared in amazement like this night sky was the greatest beauty of all. “Those two big shiny stars at the top are called Castor and Pollux—the twin stars. They burn extra bright and have their own star systems with their own red dwarfs and planets and everything swirling around them!”

Oikawa spoke dreamily; watching the constellations twinkle with wide glimmering eyes.

“You talk about them like they’re living people.” Iwaizumi teased, jabbing lightly at Oikawa’s unapologetic fanaticism. 

At this Oikawa smiled unbothered and nodded earnestly. 

“That’s because they are...or _were_.” 

Iwaizumi frowned. 

“‘Were’? They’re just stars. Space dust and heat or whatever.” 

Oikawa just chuckled lightly, shaking his head in a way that Iwaizumi found both effortlessly annoying and captivating—like he was laughing at an inside joke that he shared with only himself. 

“They have stories just like you and I Iwa-chan…”

This wouldn't be the first time Oikawa had laughed like this or had taken on that distant look in his eyes that made Iwaizumi wonder if, in his heart-of-hearts, he was already lightyears away. There was always a peculiar timelessness that Oikawa seemed to take on when he talked about the stars. It was as if, somehow long ago, he had learned some secret truth that was his alone to guard and it had set him free. Free of the simple worries and the petty doubts that dredged down those around him. He walked with stardust in his wake. 

“...In Greek mythology, they were heroes,” Oikawa explained. “When Castor was dying of his injuries after a battle, Zeus gave Pollux the choice to share his rightful immortality with his brother, and save his life, or to keep it all to himself and become one of the gods.” Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi so that the moonlight was cast onto his skin, glowing like a little silver halo all around him. “Pollux chose to save Castor and forfeited his immortality. They say that the two brothers became those two stars and watch over all of earth's heroes from the heavens, even now, _together_.” 

Oikawa seemed to float back down to earth and settled back in the grass, nestling his head back into the long summer grass. 

“That’s sad,” Iwaizumi said flatly. 

“Huh?!” Oikawa turned to him in shock, his eyes and mouth gaping in disbelief. 

“I said, it’s sad,” Iwaizumi said, feeling his face flush from the sudden attention. “They had to give up immortality and become big balls of space fire just because one of them couldn’t stay alive.” 

Oikawa’s expression flattened. 

“Hrmph,” he pouted unsatisfied, “you are so not a romantic, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi felt his face become hot and red. He quickly looked away so Oikawa couldn’t see the panicked look in his eyes. 

“Of course not, all of that is gross,” he said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms in defiance. 

Oikawa just shook his head easily. “You say that now, but one day—maybe when we grow up and go to middle school or high school or even college, since you’re so adamant about it—you’ll find someone you love and then I bet you’ll be the biggest romantic of all.” 

Iwaizumi just bit his lip in silence, holding himself back from saying exactly what he wanted to. That truth was his and his alone. 

This wasn’t the time. That might ruin everything. Iwaizumi couldn’t stand the idea of losing Oikawa over something like that. If that meant that he kept quiet, and never said those three words that his tongue ached to say, then maybe everything would be fine and he would be able to keep Oikawa in his life. 

“I think we are like Castor and Pollux,” Oikawa simply stated. 

“W-what?” Iwaizumi said, almost coughing out his breath as his body shot up faster than the air could follow. “I-idiot what does that mean?” 

Oikawa just smiled letting his eyes stay fixed on the sky. 

Iwaizumi felt his stomach dance as he watched the way the warm summer wind blew through Oikawa’s curls; tossing them effortlessly around the edges of his ears and across his forehead. Iwaizumi noticed how the starlight and the moon’s reflection cast graceful shadows across the delicate curves of his face and made him glow with some kind of ethereal beauty that was somehow both far away and yet always by his side. 

This was his truth. He didn't need to wait to find his love; not for college, not for high school, not even for middle school. Here on this hill, on this night, he knew he had already found it. 

“I would want us to be together forever too,” Oikawa said comfortably, “Just like them.” 

Iwaizumi did everything in his power to cool the pink flush running across the bridge of his nose. 

“Weren’t they brothers though?” 

“Half brothers,” Oikawa admitted with a smooth shrug. “It’s all symbolic though. Different parents but the same love and the same pain. It’s a story about two people clinging to each other, and both of them striving to make a beautiful life for the other.” 

“Sounds complicated and lame.” 

“I think it’s beautiful,” Oikawa said insistently and with a sudden degree of cold seriousness. “Other people are all we have in this life Iwa-chan.” 

There was an edge of sadness and nostalgia when he spoke that Iwaizumi couldn’t understand. It was almost like he was reminiscing on time already gone by. Iwaizumi could see how much this mattered to Oikawa though, and more than anything Iwaizumi just wanted to make him happy. 

“Which one are you?” He asked, looking up again, trying to find the twins hidden out in the stars. “Castor or Pollux?”

Oikawa was silent. 

Iwaizumi rolled over to see him and saw that the shadows had fallen over his face; obscuring his eyes from sight. There was something dark in him that was silent and unreadable but also incredibly sad in an unspoken bittersweet sort of way that Iwaizumi couldn’t describe. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

Iwaizumi stifled a laugh. He sounded so serious, but Iwaizumi figured he was being ridiculous and that Oikawa probably just hadn’t read far enough in the story yet to know which one gets the glory and the girl in the end. After all, he’d just pick that one if he knew…

“You’re a moron,” Iwaizumi said, lounging back against the hill and taking in the sights and sounds around him. 

“Probably,” Oikawa said, bouncing back to his usually carefree self, “but I am your moron so you are stuck with me always and forever.” 

“Hmm,” Iwaizumi hummed peacefully deciding he liked the sound of that. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

——————————————————————

Iwaizumi’s heart was pounding so hard as he drove that it gradually became a distraction. His breathing was out of control and was now verging on hyperventilation. He had no idea what speed he was actually driving at since his eyes couldn’t seem to fix on anything other than the road ahead, but he knew that his foot was planted firmly on the gas and he was pulling off maneuvers that would probably make stunt drivers cringe and flinch away. 

His phone’s GPS led him to a large campus in the middle of nowhere surrounded by barbed wire gates tacked with official-looking “Keep Out” and “No Trespassing” signs. He pulled into the first security booth and was let through quickly after giving his name and the security code from the text message he was sent. 

Iwaizumi was sure that it was a bad sign that things were going so easily, nothing in his life had ever been as easy as this… He spun the car haphazardly into the first parking spot he found and left his car twisted on the yellow line between two different slots towards the front of the lot. Yanking his keys out of the ignition slot, Iwaizumi left the car behind; building into a dead sprint towards the building without even locking the car doors. 

A man in a creased white dress shirt and black tie was waiting for him at the front door of the main building and led him inside. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” The man asked. 

He just nodded walking at a breakneck pace so that he was ahead of his guide even though he had no idea where he was headed. 

“Is Oikawa okay?” He huffed, making a turn and following a red arrow taped onto the floor. It must have been the correct turn since the other man followed him and made no comment. 

“The director will want to talk to you himself,” he said nervously. 

More alarm bells went off in Iwaizumi’s head. His knees were starting to feel like Jell-O as he shook his head and heaved out a forced and exhausted breath. 

“Take the double doors right ahead,” the man called to him from behind Iwaizumi. 

He must have given up on trying to keep up with Iwaizumi’s hurried pace as he had fallen behind and was now yelling down the hallway. His words echoed against the concrete walls of the building and Iwaizumi found himself wondering just how deep into this mouse trap he had come. 

Hastily, he shoved open the double doors and rushed inside making no attempt to conceal his worry nor his uneven breath. 

Heads turned suddenly in shock to the clamoring of the doors behind Iwaizumi as he stormed into the command room. 

Long benches of computers manned by engineers and operators dominated the room. It was dark and some harsh fluorescent tube lights hung overhead, casting ominous shadows over everyone's faces and across the floor. At the front of the room was a large screen projecting mountains of indecipherable data and statistics as well as a map visually tracking some kind of trajectory around the earth. Lights were blinking everywhere and phones rang throughout the room. Iwaizumi immediately felt overwhelmed by the chaos. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” A voice asked him approaching from the front. 

“I swear to god if one more person asks me that…” he sneered, very clearly not in the mood for these games. 

The man walking over to him was probably in his late 50s and walked with a militaristic kind of authority that made Iwaizumi feel the need to salute. His expression was intentionally blank but the tension in the room combined with the obvious effort he was going to in order to not show emotion made it clear that something was indeed wrong. 

“Right,” the man said with a nod, “I am NAL Chief Officer Takahashi Yuto. We spoke over the phone.” 

“Fine,” Iwaizumi said starkly. “Tell me what is going on. What is wrong?” 

Takahashi’s stoic face faltered. 

“It’s not good,” he said. 

“I figured that,” Iwaizumi shot harshly. 

“So you are aware of Commander Oikawa’s current status and location?” he asked. 

“I know that he launched up to the international space station a few months ago,” Iwaizumi explained. “I also know that he is scheduled to be landing again back here in a few weeks.” 

Takahashi nodded a little impressed. 

Iwaizumi had kept up with the news almost obsessively. It wasn’t hard to find updates and news articles since this was one of the biggest launches in the NAL’s history, but Iwaizumi had also found out how easy it was to spiral into information overload in times like these. He never wanted to repeat that fear and dread again... It’s not like he was going to hear it from Oikawa’s own mouth after all, but nonetheless, he couldn’t stand to be left in the dark and not know what was happening. 

His nerves had been on edge about the whole situation since the launch. The day of take-off had been one of the hardest and most tense days Iwaizumi could remember. He had watched it from moment one on his TV and had followed and tracked every announcement made through the successful docking at the ISS. 

Iwaizumi had hoped never to live in that kind of fear again. He had promised himself to stay distracted and busy until the landing so that he wouldn’t have to live under the pressure of that kind of uncertainty for the rest of the mission. 

He had thought that the docking success would be the end and that he could finally relax, but that was clearly not true. The other shoe had finally dropped and Iwaizumi wondered if he had just been waiting for it this whole time. 

“There is a problem in the capsule,” Takahashi said slowly watching Iwaizumi’s reaction closely, “It appears that a serious malfunction occurred following a repair exercise in an outer compartment of the station.” 

Iwaizumi listened to every word, feeling himself sinking lower and lower with each passing phrase. 

“How serious?” He asked, preparing himself for the worst. 

Takahashi dropped his gaze and wouldn’t meet Iwaizumi’s eyes. 

Oh. 

“What happened exactly?” he demanded, begging for more information. 

“It seems that the compartment that was undergoing repairs had been overlooked by previous engineers who failed to report severe damage to the ventilation and oxygen supply.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that the system computers have locked down that sector of the capsule using mechanical deadbolts installed within the hardware of that room. We haven’t been able to gain access to the controls or break the lockdown protocols. If we are unable to override these controls, then the room will inevitably run out of oxygen.” 

Iwaizumi’s heart was pounding. He could feel his gut churning and turning violently inside him. 

“And what about Oikawa?” he asked softly, already knowing what was coming. 

There wouldn’t be this kind of fuss if the situation wasn’t dire. 

“Commander Oikawa was the crew member who brought the problem to our attention but…” He trailed off for a second and scowled painfully. “But in the process, he was locked inside the exterior capsule.” 

Iwaizumi’s knees gave out. He collapsed into a rolling desk chair behind him breathlessly wilting and feeling the air fleeing his lungs. A million billion questions flashed frantically through Iwaizumi’s mind. Each thought was more terrible and unthinkable than the last; inundating his senses and smothering him with sheer overwhelming force. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't move a single thought from his brain to his lips without a thousand more tumbling after it until one central, crucial, fundamental question burst forth overriding every other pressing concern. 

“Will he run out of oxygen?” 

Takahashi grimaced. 

“If we can’t get back control of the systems…then, yes.” 

He tried to speak with hope and forced reassurance, but Iwaizumi could feel his true meaning. 

“When will the oxygen run out?” Iwaizumi asked miserably, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands between his knees to soothe the roaring nausea thrashing inside of him. 

Takahashi just shook his head. 

“Immanently.” 

——————————————————————

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa spun the volleyball between his long nimble fingers. 

It was a kind of good luck charm—or maybe ‘habit’ was a better word for it—that he had picked up when he became serious about playing that still made Iwaizumi chuckle. 

Being around someone your whole life meant that you could pick out their little quirks and patterns that weren’t obvious to other people. Sometimes, Iwaizumi felt like the only thing he was really an expert in was Oikawa. After all, Iwaizumi could read Oikawa’s tones and understood how his unspoken words and body language translated to what he was really thinking. He was like a complex computer somedays and Iwaizumi was the only one with the manual. 

Other people had noticed by now too. Matsukawa and Hanamaki had begun joking that Iwaizumi was “the Oikawa whisperer” since only he seemed able to predict what their captain was really thinking. 

Oikawa himself had become a master of concealing those sorts of secrets and details over the years. When they were younger, Oikawa had always been an open book when it came to his feelings. He could be a cry baby and was usually clumsy and inelegant with people and attention but all of that changed when they hit middle school. 

But then, almost overnight, Oikawa had grown into someone completely different that wore an alluring and attractive but ultimately deceptive facade. He learned how to use his words and his looks to make people like him and get the things he wanted. In public and under pressure, he could be a master manipulator that in no way resembled the shy and sincere kid he had once been. Astonishingly, he seemed to always know exactly what compliment to give or what taunt to shoot to make people give him exactly what he wanted. Other people were like circuit boards with their hardware open and on display to Oikawa and when he got this way he had no reservations about pushing buttons and yanking wires until inevitably they gave him what he wanted. Iwaizumi was both in awe and bewilderment at this stranger his friend had grown into and how it had happened without him noticing along the way. 

Oikawa tossed the ball into the air in front of him and then made a forward leap with a running start towards the ball. His arms swung behind him as his body gathered momentum before launching forward to smash the ball down on the other end of the court with deadly accuracy. 

“Impressive,” Iwaizumi said as flatly unimpressed as he could, just for effect. 

Oikawa rolled his eyes. 

“You are so mean to me Iwa-chan.” He shook his head and then backed up to the service line and plucked another ball from the basket. 

Iwaizumi crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. 

“Shouldn't you be calling it a day with the practicing right about now?” he pointed out, jutting out a hip in displeasure. 

Oikawa just breathed in deeply through his nose while he thought about exactly what words he would use to try and get out of this one. 

“In a bit, my serve still needs some work,” He decided lightly. “I want the team to do well Iwa-chan, and that means I have to be at my best.” 

Iwaizumi squinted his eyes. 

“No, no, no. Don’t use all that fake puppet-master bullshit on me Shitty-kawa, it doesn’t work.” 

“It might,” Oikawa said fluidly, masterfully ignoring Iwaizumi’s larger point. 

“I’m not one of your little fangirls, moron,” Iwaizumi said. “Now knock it off and let’s go home before you hurt yourself.” 

Oikawa just bit his lip and backed up to the starting line preparing to toss the ball again. 

“Hey, idiot didn’t you hear me?” He said, feeling his irritation growing. 

Oikawa set his jaw defiantly and squinted his eyes with determination, blocking out all distractions—including Iwaizumi. 

That was the last straw. 

Iwaizumi marched over and slapped the ball out of the air just as Oikawa was coming in with his running start. 

“Hey!” He protested, watching his ball go flying out of his path. 

“Let’s go!” 

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

“You’re not my mom Iwaizumi.” 

There was a cold heartlessness in those words that hit Iwaizumi deep in his chest. The use of his full name aside, Iwaizumi was out of patience. 

“Good thing too,” He said roughly as he balled up his fist and lunged at Oikawa, making a full connection between his knuckles and the edge of Oikawa’s cheek. 

Oikawa stumbled to the ground. He looked back up in shock, raising a hand to his cheek. His mouth hung open wordlessly. 

Finally, his silver tongue was silent. 

“You are going to hurt yourself and I can’t be around to watch it,” Iwaizumi said, trying to hide the shaking in his voice. 

He was angry now. 

“Then leave!” Oikawa challenged standing back up. 

“No!” 

“Why not?!” 

“Because that is the promise we made, dumbass!” 

As soon as the words left his lips Iwaizumi realized what he had just said. 

Oikawa just stared at him in wonderment. 

“Y-you really remember that?” He asked softly. 

“Of course I do,” Iwaizumi frowned, pinching his teeth into his cheek to control his expression. “I’m surprised you do though.” 

Oikawa looked down almost ashamed. 

“I remember,” He said quietly. 

“Then act like it,” Iwaizumi said fiercely. 

“I am,” Oikawa said, looking back at Iwaizumi with a sudden honesty and pain in his eyes that Iwaizumi had almost forgotten he was capable of with how he had been acting lately. 

“How is _this_ holding up your end of our promise?” Iwaizumi asked, baffled. 

Oikawa’s eyes went steely. 

“Castor and Pollux were heroes,” Oikawa explained soberly. “They were argonauts, _legends_ , that became so famous and so powerful that even the gods took notice.” 

He spoke slowly and evenly, not meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes, almost like he was reciting from memory. 

“They became symbols of life and death, of bravery and kindness, of duality and devotion. They were emblems of brotherhood and... love. I just wanted to live up to that kind of legacy for us both.” 

He finally looked up and locked eyes with Iwaizumi. 

“I want to be like them. I’ll prove I can. I want to take us as far as we can go and write our names in the stars so that we can be eternal too.” 

“That is too much for one person Tooru,” Iwaizumi murmured. 

“I can do it.” 

“I know you _can_ , moron. But, I’m worried about what it is going to cost you to do it.” Iwaizumi asked. 

He let his gaze run across the floor of the gym around them. The mess of stray volleyballs, discarded water bottles, and sports tape made Iwaizumi’s heart break. The brace keeping Oikawa’s knee together became his focus before their eyes met again.

Oikawa’s drive, his ambition, his single-minded commitment to anything he set his mind to was terrifying to Iwaizumi. He was a force to be reckoned with because he didn’t act out of reason or logic after he got those kinds of dreams set in his head. There was no stopping him once he decided what he wanted. Infuriatingly, he pushed through the pain, he would never stop once he started, and he was willing to sacrifice anything for the things that he wanted no matter the consequences to himself. That was what scared Iwaizumi the most. 

“I can’t watch you destroy yourself,” he said. 

“I am trying to help us,” Oikawa insisted. “I just wanted to prove…” 

He trailed off. 

“Prove what?” 

Oikawa’s shoulder slumped forward. 

“I wanted to prove that I’m worthy of you Hajime…” 

Iwaizumi’s heart skipped a beat. 

“You have never needed to prove that Tooru.” 

Oikawa smiled and chuckled, bowing his head as if Iwaizumi had said something amusing. 

“What?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“Nothing,” Oikawa said with a sigh, “you just said something funny but, I think it's only funny to me.” 

“Your face is funnier than anything I’ve ever said.” Iwaizumi laughed uneasily, bending down and sitting on the hardwood floor of the gym. 

“My face is beautiful. It’s a work of art.” Oikawa said with a hint of humor in his voice taking a seat beside Iwaizumi. 

“A beautiful mistake maybe,” Iwaizumi teased, feeling his inhibitions floating away in this moment of true happiness that he had thought he was long since beyond by now. “If your face is art, then it’s definitely a Pollock and not a Rembrandt.” 

“Rude, Iwa-chan!” 

“Fine! Picasso then.” 

They both just laughed and fell back against the floor. Iwaizumi could feel the cool surface beneath his damp skin and he focused on the heavy sound of Oikawa catching his breath next to him. 

Together forever huh? He smiled. 

A disturbing thought shot through Iwaizumi’s mind like a bullet smashing through glass. His body tensed and he swallowed hard. 

“Hey Loser-kawa?” he jabbed shakily. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re the space and mythology guy between us, I guess, but… can I make one request?” 

Oikawa looked over at him puzzled. 

For a moment, images of fire and feathers and wings and a raging ocean swirling and consuming everything in its wake flashed before Iwaizumi’s eyes. He heard screaming, crying, begging for life. 

He winced. 

“Work hard,” he began, deep in thought before a frown took over his face and he felt his stomach sink, “but just...don’t become Icarus in the process, huh?” 

Oikawa smiled a joyless grin with something much darker and much more sorrowful lurking behind his eyes as if they were sharing the same thought. 

“Don’t worry Pollux. I think fate has bigger plans for us.” 

——————————————————————

Iwaizumi lurched towards a trash can under the desk he had collapsed into and vomited out his stomach into the bin. 

“Why am I here?” he asked, hunched over the bucket. 

“He asked to speak to you,” Takahashi said. 

“Why me?” 

His hands were shaking. This couldn’t be real. 

“Ask him yourself.” 

“We haven’t spoken in years,” Iwaizumi explained, pulling the trash can in closer to his middle. “Why me?” 

Takahashi shrugged lifelessly.

“Who would you call if you knew it was the end?” His straight voice answered. 

“And it is? The end, I mean.” Iwaizumi asked pitifully. “Just, fix this. Please. Get the doors open. Let him out. He’s still alive in there. H-he… he has so much more to live for.” 

He was begging. He felt his lip quiver and the tears were already pooling in his eyes. 

This felt like a nightmare. 

Wake up. Wake up. Please…

“We haven't given up yet, son,” He said, but Iwaizumi knew hopelessness when he heard it. 

“Can I talk to him?” 

Takahashi nodded and gestured over to an open desk slot by the front control panel. 

“We have contact with him for now on the satellite video phone,” he said. “He is waiting for you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded. 

Standing up he felt sick again, all of his muscles were weak and screaming. The adrenaline inside his body was raging like an uncontrolled forest fire ravaging every exhausted nerve that it came across. 

He slid into the seat in front of the monitor and picked up the phone connected to the console. 

“Hello?” he asked hesitantly. “Oikawa?” 

At first, the little screen just showed an empty capsule. It looked just like the movies; white and empty. Sterile, like a surgeon's operating room. How was this real? 

“Iwa-chan!” Chimed a voice from the other end of the line. 

The video lagged ever so slightly as the brunet slipped into the frame in front of the camera. 

Iwaizumi lost his breath. 

It had been years since he’d seen Oikawa. He was amazed by how different he looked and yet how exactly the same he was. 

His hair was shorter, so the little curls that used to wrap around his face looked more like smooth controlled waves framing his eternally handsome face. He looked a little older—as Iwaizumi was sure he did too—but every part of him still had that annoying boyish charm that always made it impossible to say no to him. His brown eyes were big and serious looking and despite the happy ease with which he greeted Iwaizumi, it was clear that he was scared. 

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said incredibly lamely. 

What a stupid fucking thing to say right now! Fuck. 

“Right back at you,” Oikawa said lightly. 

They just stared for a minute, both of them, in complete silence. Neither of them quite knew what to say. 

“So,” Oikawa finally said, twisting his mouth nervously, “Uh… this sucks right?” 

For a single heartbeat, Iwaizumi was completely frozen. 

Was that a fucking joke? 

The absolute absurdity of that summation clashed with Iwaizumi’s frayed nerves and resulted in a scream of laughter muffled by his right hand clapped over his mouth. He shook with a combination of weak laughter and total fury that this asshole would choose a moment like this to make a joke. 

“You’re an idiot,” Iwaizumi said wheezing for breath. “How do you manage to drop a lame joke like that after all these years and at a time like this? Moron!” 

Iwaizumi saw Oikawa’s face light up with the familiarity in his tone. His thin lips spread into a smile and his whole body relaxed right back to how easy it had been before everything else. 

“No time like the present,” Oikawa explained stiffly. “Gotta make a joke while I can!” 

He clearly meant it as a shot at dark humor but Iwaizumi felt those words like a bolt of lightning. 

He stopped laughing. 

“Oikawa…” He started. 

“No!” Oikawa insisted quickly. “Never mind. Sorry. What am I talking about? Everything is going to be fine. Those boys back at the home office are going to get things fixed up for me and get everything back to tip-top shape. Everything will be fine. You’ll see!” 

He spoke like he was trying to convince himself. 

Was this denial? 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, shaking his head bent over and facing the office floor beneath his feet, “this is serious.” 

“I know.” Oikawa’s voice moved slowly like a thick and viscous syrup pouring sluggishly from a bottle. 

There was a crack in his voice at the end that sent a shiver down Iwaizumi’s spine. He was holding back tears. 

He did know. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. 

“Are you okay?” he asked through the hand clapped over his mouth. 

“Me?” Oikawa’s voice asked through the phone with that same fake and forced easiness that he had mastered long ago. “Oh yeah. All good here. Showers are cold and the food is all dehydrated, but hey that’s life on the ISS, right?.” 

Iwaizumi just shook his head in total disbelief of it all. 

“I still can’t believe they let your dumb ass become an astronaut.” 

“They’re lucky to have me and they know it,” Oikawa shot back with that signature effortless wit that made you never want to stop listening to his voice. 

The makings of a smile could be heard in his voice. 

“Yes, they are,” Iwaizumi said a little too seriously. 

Oikawa was quiet, he must have heard Iwaizumi, but he said nothing in response. 

“Is it everything you dreamed it would be?” Iwaizumi asked, filling the silence. 

“No job is perfect,” Oikawa answered, “but this one comes pretty close.” 

Iwaizumi smiled and tilted his back up. He sounded happy. Genuinely happy. 

“You know, I still remember the day you were accepted to the NAL program. I read about it in the news.” 

Oikawa just nodded. 

The elephant in the room of ‘because we stopped talking’ just hung there, untouched. 

“It was a long journey getting here,” Oikawa said flatly. 

There was silence. 

Iwaizumi couldn’t stand it. He didn’t know how much time they had but spending even one more second of it making shallow small talk and not saying what they meant would be agony. 

“I’m sorry for everything Tooru,” He said finally, pressing his weight down into his hands and gritting his teeth. 

“There’s no need for that.” 

“Yes, there is goddamnit!” Iwaizumi almost yelled into the phone feeling his anger seeping out under the weight of this nonsense. Desolate furious silence overcame his senses allowing his ears to ring irritably as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know how long we get to talk for but I am going to say what I need to say because here, and now, at this moment, I can. Okay?!” 

He bent into the table and rested his arms heavily on either side of the control panel desk. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Oikawa said sadly. 

“What?” 

“You don’t have to apologize because it’s my fault Iwa-chan.” His voice was breaking in a very uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. Iwaizumi was sure he heard a sniffle as Oikawa dragged a finger under his eye sweeping up a tear. “This was always my fault. I am the one that needs to apologize. I’m the one that walked away.” 

“Shut up.”

“What?” 

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi repeated as a tear escaped his eye and fell down the edge of his face; getting caught on the tip of his nose. 

“What kind of response in that?” Oikawa almost laughed. “I am trying to apologize here if you’ll just let me.” 

“No. I won’t.” 

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.” 

They both laughed opening the floodgates to all of the tears that they had been holding back. 

“I’ve missed you,” Iwaizumi said painfully, choking against the current of tears pouring out of him. 

“I’ve missed you more.” 

“It’s not a competition, Shitty-kawa.”

“But if it were, I’d be winning for sure.” 

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“No,” Iwaizumi said breathing out hard through his nose and steadying his nerves. “No, I don’t.” 

——————————————————————

“These gowns are terrible,” Oikawa said sourly, watching his own reflection in the window as he twirled around trying to find a better angle. 

Iwaizumi laughed, enjoying the spectacle. “They’re not meant to be fashionable,” 

“But surely there is a better way to celebrate the grand achievement that is graduating high school than making us dress up in these silly costumes.” 

“It’s a tradition.” 

“A lame one.” 

“Oh my god you are so stupid it actually defies logic.” 

“Yeah well your tie is ugly,” Oikawa shot back, still engrossed in his reflection. “I wasn’t going to mention it, because I’m nice like that, but then you had to go and pull out the big guns like that and left me no choice.”

Iwaizumi was laughing. This was easy. 

He had given up on feeling like this again. He never thought he would see that goofy and playful look in Oikawa’s eyes again. 

It had been so long since Iwaizumi had seen that same pure, excited little boy on the hill who had been eternally satisfied with only the stars and his stories. Where had he gone and why had he left at all?

“Are you happy, Tooru?” he asked, leaning back against a pillar facing the Aoba Johsai courtyard where they were waiting for their chance to walk across the stage and finally get their diplomas. 

Oikawa stopped spinning for a minute and moved his attention onto Iwaizumi with a confused and almost panicked look. 

“How philosophical, Iwa-chan. Be careful you don’t hurt your brain thinking deep thoughts like that,” he teased in an obvious attempt to change the subject and piss Iwaizumi off so they could move on to a different topic. 

“I mean it.” Iwaizumi persisted. 

“You mean what?” Oikawa said with intensional obliviousness raking his fingers strategically through his hair re-styling his already picture-perfect head of curls. 

“Quit playing games, this is important.” 

“Hmm, is it?” 

Why was he being like this? 

“Tooru, I’m only asking because I know this last year was… hard for you. I want to make sure you’re going to be okay.” 

Oikawa almost laughed. He shook his head with haughty condescending derision like it was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. 

“Are you trying to piss me off?” Iwaizumi demanded. 

“I don’t want to talk about it Iwa-chan,” His voice was cold and absolute. The expression he wore was hardened and severe. It looked wrong against his features that he could even make a face like that. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I just wanted to have one last good day is that so fucking hard to understand Iwaizumi!?” He exploded, turning on Iwaizumi with shocking force. 

“W-what do you mean ‘one last’ good day?” Iwaizumi asked, hearing alarm bells ringing in his ears. 

Oikawa looked beyond irritated. He blew a hard breath out of his nose and huffed an angry pout. 

“Fine, if you want to do this now, I’ll just say it. Iwaizumi, I am not going to go to UC Irvine with you okay?” he shot at Iwaizumi, targeting both his tone and words to hit every one of Iwaizumi’s pressure points with grim accuracy.

“What…” Iwaizumi couldn’t find his words, the floor was crumbling under him. “What do you mean you’re not going? A-are you deferring or coming next year or something?” 

The pathetic desperation in his voice verged on begging. 

“No. I mean I am not going, period. I already rescinded my acceptance.” 

He spoke with such unusual bitterness that Iwaizumi felt his blood pressure skyrocket. 

“Why the fuck would you do that?!” 

“Because I don’t want to go, Iwaizumi.” 

Iwaizumi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Is this because of…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. 

Oikawa tilted his head with clear soreness and screwed up his face as he fruitlessly tried to organize his words. 

“Yes, it is!” he shouted, waving his arms around like a madman. “Are you happy? You pulled it out of me Iwaizumi. You were right again. It’s because I fucked up!” 

“Tooru…” 

Oikawa locked his teeth together and turned away clenching his fists; pulling them down next to him in wordless anger. 

“No, you know what? Never mind! Never mind all of this!” He spun on his heels and started to storm off. 

“Tooru!” 

Iwaizumi ran full force feeling his own anger recovering from the shock and breaking the surface. He clasped a hand around Oikawa’s shoulder and spun the taller man around. 

“That wasn’t your fault!” he hissed, trying desperately to get his point through Oikawa’s thick fucking skull. 

Oikawa just waved him off shaking his head. 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Then tell me!” 

“It was my fault Iwaizumi!” He yelled, lurching forward and using his extra inches of height to loom over Iwaizumi for a second. “It was my mistake. My stupidity. I need to be the one to make up for it.” 

Here goes that goddamn hero complex of his. 

“People get hurt Oikawa. Your injury wasn’t your fault!” Iwaizumi yelled, getting up into Oikawa’s face. “Not being able to play volleyball is not the end of the world.” 

Oikawa’s face flashed an angry medley of grief and horror.

“Maybe not yours, but it was the end of mine,” He sneered, wounded. 

Iwaizumi had never heard Oikawa refer to their futures as two separate things before. The two of them had always taken on the world side-by-side; the thought of going alone was unthinkable. Their lives didn’t need to be easy for everything to be perfect, they just had to be together for that. A sharp wound pierced his chest as his entire world started to spin.

“Oikawa…” Iwaizumi breathed in total disbelief at what he was hearing, “we do everything together. We were supposed to do everything…” 

Iwaizumi started to hear just how childlike and pathetic he sounded pleading like this. 

“Yeah we were, past tense,” Oikawa said savagely. 

“But what about our promise…” 

Their promise… That beautiful and pure childhood promise that Iwaizumi had held so close all these years. Did it all mean nothing to Oikawa? Was it a lie all along? 

“That is exactly the problem Iwaizumi,” Oikawa derided harshly. “Do you know what they call it in myths when people are stupid and prideful enough to think they are the masters of their own destinies? When people try to fit their own plans into the threads of the fates? Hubris. It is called hubris and those heroes always die in the end.” 

Iwaizumi could feel the vein in his forehead starting to stick out and pulsate under his skin. 

“This isn’t a fucking myth, Oikawa. This is real life and you are stomping all over our plans! Frankly, you are making me feel like garbage right now.” 

Oikawa turned away in pain. 

“That is the last thing I want to do, Hajime,” he said low and slow. “You won’t believe me but I am doing this for you.” 

“How do you figure that load of bullshit?!” 

Iwaizumi was fuming now. This was completely ridiculous. How on earth could this be for him? This seemed intentionally designed just to be as painful for him as possible. This was cruel. 

“Because I can’t be that person for you anymore Hajime!” Oikawa yelled through a veil of tears now openly falling from his glossy brown eyes. “I can’t give you what you deserve anymore and it is all my fault. I ruined everything for myself, I refuse to ruin everything for you too. I thought I was the hero of this story, but I’m not… I-I think I’m the villain.” 

“No. You are an egomaniac, that is what you are!” Iwaizumi yelled completely out of control with rage. “Don’t romanticize this, this is just selfish. This isn’t about me. This is about you failing and not being able to own up to the fact that your actions had consequences. For once I wasn’t there to protect you from your own karma and that must just piss you the fuck off!” 

Iwaizumi was yelling so much that his own words were echoes in his ears. It was like he was underwater hearing his muffled words through the waves coming from someone else’s mouth. Why would he say that? He didn’t mean that… 

Oikawa’s eyes were wide and his skin had gone pale. His mouth hung open in pain and shock. His body started to shake and he clamped his eyes together letting his expression crumble. 

“Then allow me to alleviate your burden Iwaizumi,” he said through his tears, his voice shaking and destroyed. 

He turned to talk away and when Iwaizumi reached to grab his wrist, he found that Oikawa caught his arm in his own iron grip, stopping it completely. He stared at Iwaizumi through emotionless cold eyes and a hard detached face soaked in hot tears. 

“We’re done.” No feeling. 

“B-but…” Iwaizumi stuttered, finally starting to come down from his furor and realizing exactly what he had said through clearing eyes. “What about our promise? Y-You said that we were going to be them… Pollux and Cas-” 

“I never asked to be Castor,” Oikawa spat with unfeeling callous eyes. “But it looks like I became Icarus after all.” 

——————————————————————

“Did they tell you how much oxygen is left?” Iwaizumi asked, dreading the answer. 

He still wasn’t totally sure which tactic to use while talking to Oikawa here. Should he pretend everything is fine and not bring it up? Should he just try to be a distraction and only talk about good and happy times? Or should he just be real and say what he means? Maybe Oikawa finally deserved some honesty after all the years of half-truths and unspoken words. 

Oikawa’s eyes glanced off to the side as he read some kind of gauge in the capsule. 

Iwaizumi could tell through the hazy picture on the monitor that his eyes were starting to look tired and bloodshot and that there was a paleness settling into his skin as the levels sank. 

“Hard to say,” his voice answered back, “normal oxygen levels in the blood are between 95% and 100% so technically anything below that is considered dangerous.” 

He tapped at the device in front of him and Iwaizumi saw a moment of alarm flash across his face but when he turned back to Iwaizumi he was all smiles and careless jokes. 

“But of course astronauts are specially trained for things like the different gravity and pressures in space which includes being more resilient to oxygen changes,” he continued in some last-ditch effort to comfort Iwaizumi. “Normal people would be in danger and lose consciousness around 85% or 80% but I bet I could handle the lower end of that spectrum.” 

“What are the current levels in there?” 

Oikawa’s eye twitched but he just smiled a nonchalant and toothy grin. 

“Who knows,” he said, waving off the question. “I have every faith the home office will get this sorted out in no time, so there is no need to worry!” 

“Oikaw-”

“Do you remember when we used to go stargazing as kids?” he said, suddenly cutting off Iwaizumi’s question in its tracks. 

“I do.” Iwaizumi could feel his stomach turning. Something was clearly wrong and Oikawa wasn’t explaining. 

“I remember the night you and I found the Gemini constellation for the first time,” he said fiddling with something off-screen. “Do you remember?” 

“Of course.” 

He smiled. 

“You know, I can still see it from up here. When I would be out making repairs and running drills on the exterior capsule sometimes we would turn at just the right angle and I could recognize it immediately.” 

“How does it look?” 

“The same,” he returned with a shrug. “Well no, I guess not the same. You can tell what it is if you know your stars, but the light hits a little different through the visor and of course through the vacuum too since the earth’s atmosphere isn’t distorting the image like it normally would.” 

“I never had much of a talent for seeing the constellations through the stars,” Iwaizumi admitted chuckling and remembering the messy jumble of stars that Oikawa had insisted hid shapes and patterns beyond Iwaizumi’s reach. 

“Ah yes,” Oikawa nodded. “Can’t see the forest through the trees, huh?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. 

Whatever little task or repair Oikawa was working on just below the camera’s lens must not have been going well as he was biting his lip and scrunching up his brow in-between huffy curses.

“Should we be talking so much if the oxygen levels are low?” he probed, feeling his concern growing. “What were the levels again?” 

He prompted the question a second time, hoping for a better answer, but knowing what a stubborn ass Oikawa could be when he wanted to avoid a topic. He hadn’t changed so much after all. 

“The constellations don’t look any bigger up here you know,” Oikawa said in a tone like he was ready to begin a lecture. “You’d think because you are closer to them, they’d seem bigger but they don’t!” 

“They are still millions of light-years away,” Iwaizumi said, confused by why Oikawa was making a point out of this. 

“Look at you!” Oikawa’s voice cheered as he bent down to retrieve a tool before returning back to what was now looking like some kind of wiring project. “Maybe you are the star expert between us after all!” 

Oikawa’s face dropped and his cheery tone melted away in his clutch as soon as he made the last twist with his screwdriver. Nothing around the cabin appeared to change and maybe that was the problem because Iwaizumi could make out a concerned aura growing around Oikawa. 

So that is what this was about. He was distracting himself by using Iwaizumi as a reason not to focus on his repairs. It was already outwardly apparent that it wasn’t going well and with every futile fix failing in vain to restore the airflow, he was talking more and more. 

He was starting to ramble now almost as if he was afraid that any moment of silence would be too much for him and he’d be overcome and defeated by it. Rashly, he filled every breath with words and desperation began to seep off of each one as they passed his lips. 

“The crazy thing,” he said babbling aimlessly, “is that without all the light pollution and artificial glow of the earth, the stars are actually brighter out here.” 

There was a little gleam in his eye when he talked, and his hands stopped fidgeting with the wires for a second as he glanced up and away; as if remembering the view of the stars vividly.

“There is no ‘up’ in space,” he mused, shining with peaceful contentment that only came from experiencing true wonder. “So when you are outside the hull, there are stars all around you. So many more that you can see even on clear nights back home. Entire swirling galaxies that move and glimmer like living organisms. There are stars in every direction you turn—they’re under you and behind you and always in front of you, beckoning you to come and see them…” 

For a moment his eyes took on a hazy lost and confused appearance and he stopped. 

“...W-What was I saying again?...S-Something about...Oh! That’s right, the stars!” he gleamed, finding his footing again.

His awed and reverent smile returned as if it had never left. 

“You actually feel like you are among them, Hajime. You feel like you could be one of them...”

That worshiping and devoted smile was worth all the words that Iwaizumi couldn’t find to say. Oikawa seemed so happy and fulfilled, it actually made Iwaizumi feel warm and complete right alongside him. 

“... Shining bright and lighting the way through the dark,” Iwaizumi found himself saying automatically, finishing Oikawa’s sentence and trying to share in the amazing things that he had seen and the veneration they seemed to stoke inside him. “Burning bright and burning long, the only heat warming a cold and lonely universe. Like a hearth smoldering away—a constant reminder of where home will always be when you’re ready to return.” 

Silence. 

“Yeah…” Oikawa’s voice said dreamily. “My, my, my Iwaizumi Hajime, I just knew you’d turn out to be a romantic in the end. Didn’t I tell you so?” 

“Tooru?” He asked. 

“Mhm?” Oikawa answered, humming away and turning his attention back to the knot of wires in his hands. 

“What are the oxygen levels?” 

Oikawa froze. His expression fell and he let his busy fingers rest and drop as he breathed in deeply for a rare moment of vulnerability. He pivoted his body and showed Iwaizumi his stripped down and raw self. With a harsh shudder, Iwaizumi realized that this unrefined unrehearsed honesty was Oikawa’s way of admitting defeat. 

His eyes were wide and afraid. His lips trembled as they searched for the right words that they both knew didn’t exist. 

“It’s 87%,” he said precisely, staring meekly at one of the gauges behind his screen and concealing the whimper in his tone. 

Iwaizumi felt the color pour out of his face. 87%? But that...that meant… No. No!

“Oh my god, Tooru that’s… oh my god. But you said 85% was…” 

“It’s not good, I know,” he said firmly, turning back to his wires and stifling a sniffle. 

“I’ll get you an update from these lazy sons of bitches in the office,” Iwaizumi promised, already standing up ready to leap into action. “They have got to be close to something by now. All these famous scientists and engineers… I mean, surely they must have some way to help or at least buy time for a better solution.” 

“Hajime.” Oikawa’s voice was suddenly low and serious. 

“What?” He leaned back down to the console. 

“Please understand something, and please don’t be mad at me.” 

Mad at him? 

“For what?” 

Oikawa took in a shallow and shaky breath. 

“I told them to tell you they were working to help but... they’re not.” 

“What do you mean ‘they’re not’?” Iwaizumi breathed, in total denial of what he had just heard. “They said… they told me…”

“It was my mistake for coming in here without making sure the wires were good Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said, ashamed of how long he had kept the truth hidden. “They already know what the answer is, but it involves opening the capsule from the outside and unhinging my compartment. It would destroy the exterior shielding and would disconnect major electrical junctions. All onboard computers would be made irreparable.” 

“What does that mean? What do you mean? If they know what to do, then they need to just do that and get you out. Who cares about some computers and some scrap metal… Tooru, you are worth so much more than all that.” 

Oikawa smiled a real and genuine smile that slowly melted away. 

“I told them not to Hajime.” 

“Y-you, what?” 

There is no way he heard that right. 

“Iwa-chan, it would destroy this entire segment of the station and decades worth of collected and analyzed research from countless global operations. I can’t be the reason all of that work goes to waste,” He spoke pleadingly and desperately. “Please try to understand. This is everything I have worked for, this is everything I have built… Please let me do this. This is all I have left.” 

Iwaizumi launched to his feet slamming both hands down on the console frantically, toppling his chair over in the process, and immediately regretted it. 

All he had left?! 

“There has got to be a way to get to you without taking the whole ship apart!” 

This was ridiculous. Iwaizumi could not comprehend what he was hearing. It was madness. 

“There will be.” Oikawa conceded sadly. “They’ll figure out these locks eventually—they’re smart people Iwaizumi.” 

“When!?” 

“A while.” 

“How long is that?” 

Oikawa was silent for a moment and just watched Iwaizumi lamentably through his screen. His dark doe eyes were wide and concealed a burning unspoken regret behind long brown lashes. Iwaizumi also came to see a softness within him that seemed almost apologetic and pitiful—the look of a man that knew his own somber fate all too well and yet mourned only for what he was leaving behind. 

“Too long for me.” 

Furious did not even begin to describe the anguish that slammed full-force into Iwaizumi; knocking the air out of his lungs. The pain was shocking and immediate, quickly overwhelming Iwaizumi until it felt like his chest was going to collapse. Each coming breath became faster and harder than the last. Everything was blurry and the room was starting to spin and become dark around the edges. This couldn’t be happening. This was impossible. His knees trembled as panic settled into his bones and the pounding adrenaline coursing through his body turned his limbs numb and weak. 

He clasped onto his shirt as if he could claw his way into his chest through his ribs and force his heart to beat. The crushing maddening weight became unbearable and he dropped to his knees biting into his lip so hard that it drew bitter metallic blood. He collided with the hard office floors as the world went cold and quiet around him. 

He blacked out. 

——————————————————————

All around Iwaizumi, the crowd bustled noisily and raucously. There was joy and celebration everywhere he turned and yet the only thing Iwaizumi wanted at this moment was to be left alone. 

The summer harvest festival held every year in Miyagi used to be one of his favorite days of the year, but this year it all just felt wrong. All these bright lights and the commotion used to feel dazzling and warm, but it was as if the enchantment had worn off and now all Iwaizumi noticed was the harsh glare of the stall lamps, making him squint as he pushed passed sweaty loud tourists. 

He passed by the Wanage ring-toss game, trying not to remember the hours he had spent there last year trying to win that little alien doll and blowing all of his pocket change in the process. 

Iwaizumi was back home from school for the summer and had been so excited at first when he had seen that UC Irvine’s schedule lined up with this festival. Without even thinking, he had already begun imagining how much fun he was going to have playing the games, watching the performers, trying on stupid masks, and watching the fireworks. All of this dream slipped harshly through his fingers, however, when he remembered that this year, for the first time, he would be doing them alone. 

He had come every year without fail, since he was five years old, with little Oikawa in tow. 

Iwaizumi had even lost his first tooth in a Takoyaki puff at this festival; the new gap in his smile combined with the drops of blood that dripped onto his snack had sent Oikawa running crying back to their moms frantically screaming about Iwaizumi’s face falling apart. 

The two of them used to walk together from stall to stall admiring the bright colorful festival decorations and basking in the rare cosmopolitan atmosphere that overtook their sleepy farming village. 

Iwaizumi remembered the time that Oikawa had gotten separated from him in a particularly busy crowd. At first, Iwaizumi had panicked and worried in equal parts that either something terrible had happened, or that his mom would be angry that he lost Oikawa. Fifteen minutes later, Iwaizumi found him hiding under a stall counter, clinging to a wooden table leg, shivering and covering his eyes. His face had been wet with tears and his nose was starting to run so much that Iwaizumi couldn’t understand him when he tried to explain how he’d gotten lost. Oikawa had hysterically refused to get out from under the table until Iwaizumi begrudgingly promised to hold his hand so he would never get lost again.

At first, Iwaizumi had been annoyed at constantly having a crybaby like little Oikawa following him around and clinging to his sleeve. It had almost felt like a chore, a favor he was doing for his mom by babysitting the annoying pint-sized brat from down the street. All of that changed though when it came time for the fireworks show.

Iwaizumi had always thought the fireworks display was the worst part of the festival. It was either too loud and left his ears ringing, too bright and made his eyes sting, or worst of all it was predictable and uninspired. Either way, year after year, Iwaizumi left the festivities deeply unimpressed with the disappointing conclusion. 

This time though, Iwaizumi saw the other side. Oikawa had cheered and leaped with joy at each explosion, dancing to the vibrant flashes without a care in the world. It was the first time that Iwaizumi had seen this side of Oikawa that viewed the world with reverence and sincerity. This display of animated wonderment was Iwaizumi’s first glimpse at a whole new side to life, a whole new perspective on living, that he had never even considered before. It occurred to Iwaizumi, even back then, what a rare thing it was to see beauty everywhere you looked and to live in the moment so deeply that every second felt like an eternity. 

After that, Iwaizumi didn’t mind holding Oikawa’s hand so much. 

But now, all these years later, Iwaizumi had no one. 

He was even beginning to wish he had never come. His mom had basically guilted him into going and some part of him hoped he could still rekindle some of the magic he remembered, though he knew that was now an impossible dream. 

“I like the cyclops mask or maybe the minotaur one with the little horns. What do you think?” A clear and familiar voice laughed out from somewhere in the crowd. 

Iwaizumi froze. 

That voice. 

He stopped in his tracks, causing the couple behind him to run right into him and nearly sending him stumbling forward into a tent post on the side of the path. 

Iwaizumi followed the sound of the voice over to the mask stall at the end of the row. There, he saw a beautiful mass of brown curls crowning a delicately handsome and hauntingly familiar face. 

Oikawa stood at the opposite end of the road while sorting through a wall of painted festival masks with a short blonde girl who giggled at each disguise and looked at him adoringly. 

Iwaizumi felt his heart crack. 

“Here, how’s this one?” Oikawa giggled, lifting up the cyclops mask to his face and making an exaggerated monstrous growl. 

The blonde laughed and flinched away playfully. 

“I think maybe one of the Hyottoko masks suits you better,” she teased, plucking out a mask with a round childish face and a comical expression skewed to one side. 

Iwaizumi felt a strange and unsettled pang of jealousy. 

“Oh, then you’ll need an Okame mask, my dear.” Oikawa taunted back lightly. 

He slipped a mask with a long oval face, sporting the same lopsided expression as his own, off of one of the display pegs. 

Dazed and startled, it slowly began to occur to Iwaizumi that this mask was painted in the same colors as the one in Oikawa’s hand. They were a matching set. 

Iwaizumi felt his body tense up with anger. Watching this just hurt too much. He thought back to the Greek myths that Oikawa used to peddle. It was often said that the fates and the gods were cruel, even to their own heroes, but it wasn’t until Iwaizumi found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the very thing that made his chest ache that he really believed it. 

“What else do you want to do?” The girl asked him, finding an excuse to step in closer to be heard over the crowd. “Any more stalls or… _whatever_ … catch your eye?” 

At this, she batted her eyelashes and looked up at him innocently yet suggestively.

“The fireworks display of course!” He exclaimed, gesturing down the festival path towards Iwaizumi and his old stargazing hill—their old stargazing hill—where the show would be beginning soon. 

At this, the girl’s face soured. 

“I’ve never liked fireworks,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “Besides, I was thinking of something more… private?” 

Just eavesdropping, Iwaizumi felt his face flush red at the insinuation. 

“O-oh, uh um w-well,” Oikawa’s usually suave voice faltered. “I promise the fireworks would still be fun if you’d just give them a chance.” 

The girl frowned and crossed her arms. 

“What is with you tonight?” she accused with an annoyed scowl. “All you want to do is go around from stall to stall and do all this silly childish festival stuff when there are so many better things we could be doing tonight.” 

Iwaizumi almost stifled a relieved smirk hearing that the date wasn’t going as well as he had thought. 

A crowd moved through the path in front of Iwaizumi, talking loudly about finding seats for the fireworks display before they were gone. The sudden bustle of noise obscured Oikawa’s response but his clear attempt to flirt her back to civility was a hard failure. 

“I just don’t get you,” she snapped disappointed. “Are you even into me at all?” 

“Of course I am!” His voice squeaked in a rushed kind of panic that Iwaizumi recognized immediately as a startled yet bald-faced lie. 

“Then why does it feel like you’d rather be here with someone else!” 

Oikawa was at a rare loss for words and the girl had had enough. She turned on her heels and stormed off down the road. 

Iwaizumi expected Oikawa to go after her, but instead, he just stood there passively and watched. His eyes narrowed disheartened as her figure disappeared into the crowd. It was as if he had expected this outcome all along and knew it wasn't worth the effort it would take to go after her. 

Oikawa’s eyes fell down to the Cyclops and Minotaur masks still out on the table. He bit his lip and shook his head sliding them back onto the display muttering something inaudible under his breath. 

He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked away from the stall and back up the road away from the center of the carnival. 

Iwaizumi crept after him wondering if he should say something and make himself known. 

Oikawa stopped when he reached the end of the stalls and was faced with a fork in the road. One road led winding up towards their old stargazing hill housing the makings of tonight’s firework show. The other trailed down and away from the lights and celebrations. 

It was a crossroad. 

Oikawa stood there silently, thinking, for longer than Iwaizumi could understand. Eventually, he sighed and suddenly turned back around towards the festivities, as if reconsidering his exit, before locking eyes with Iwaizumi behind him. 

His face showed surprise for a moment and then a moment of habitual delight followed by the crushing remembrance of everything that had come between them. Grudgingly, his face fell and settled at a forced and uninterested compromise. His bitter eyes bared so harshly through Iwaizumi that he began to wonder if Oikawa was going to say something. 

Oikawa held his tongue. 

A sad resignation flashed through his eyes and he took a moment longer than necessary to turn back around as if he was taking one last look at Iwaizumi and wanted to remember his face. 

His shoulders slumped pointedly back towards the town and disappeared silently and alone into the darkness just as the first firework exploded overhead. 

——————————————————————

Everything was dark. Iwaizumi didn’t know where he was but could have sworn he heard a voice echoing somewhere in the distance calling his name. 

Who was that?

Oikawa? Was he okay? Maybe this was all some kind of cruel joke or horrible dream after all…

He felt his eyelids flicker open and was immediately blinded by a white light shining down on him. Groaning, he rubbed his eye, reflexively trying to find his footing again. 

“Iwaizumi?” the voice asked. 

“Mhm?” he answered, still feeling like his head was full of static. 

“Good. You’re awake.” 

Awake? Oh, right. 

Iwaizumi felt his heart sink. Not a dream. 

“What happened?” he croaked, flinching away from the light shining in his tired eyes. 

The light clicked off and Iwaizumi could see the blurry outline of Takahashi holding a small flashlight looking concerned right in front of him. 

“You passed out son,” Takahashi said directly. 

“How long was I out?” Iwaizumi asked, pressing the heel of his palm up to his throbbing head. 

“About half an hour.” 

A half-hour? It hadn’t felt like any time at all but Iwaizumi still couldn't think straight. What had he been doing before this? Why couldn’t he remember? 

“My head hurts.” 

“I’d imagine it does. You went down pretty hard. Do you remember where you are?” 

He wished he didn’t but it was all starting to come back to him the longer he sat up and breathed.   
“The NAL.” The devastation in his voice was palpable as it was confirmed that his memories were not playing tricks on him despite how much he wished otherwise. 

“That’s right. What is the last thing you remember?” 

Iwaizumi felt his body tense up. His jaw locked and he winced away as his brow and nose crinkled aggressively. 

“Oikawa,” he said, slowly trying to manage his temper but feeling his anger and his devastation taking hold again. “He just told me that all of you are leaving him up there to die. That you are not doing anything to save his life.” 

The malice in his voice was becoming tangible. 

“You are leaving him up there alone to rot and I couldn’t believe anyone could be so heartless and cowardly. He’s one of your own and you’re sacrificing him, a human life, a good man, just to keep your goddamn mission on track… it's shameful, _evil_.” 

Iwaizumi’s lip trembled as the vitriolic words hissed between his clenched teeth, sharp and white-hot. The edge in his voice was starting to sound like the stinging blade of a knife scraping along a rough block of steel. 

Takahashi just bowed his head and nodded sadly. 

“So, he told you.” 

“Of course he did.” 

Takahashi was quiet and it became evident that, just like Iwaizumi, he hated this. Iwaizumi watched with morbid fascination as the older man’s stoic face crumbled. 

“It was the only choice,” he said pointedly. 

But he didn’t mean it. In fact, he was angry—furious even. He didn’t want this, and he didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. 

“No, it’s not.” 

Takahashi thought for a minute and weakly fell into a chair across from Iwaizumi shaking his head. “No, it’s not.”  
“Then do something about it!” 

“It’s out of my hands now.” 

“Bullshit,” Iwaizumi sneered, standing up too quickly and stumbling as his balance wavered. “If you really wanted to do something, you would.” 

Takahashi said nothing. 

Iwaizumi began to walk back to his monitor but stopped. A horrible question popped into his head and Iwaizumi knew that he wouldn’t get the answer from Oikawa.

“How much longer does he have?” Iwaizumi said softly without turning his back. 

“Oxygen levels are down to 83%,” Takahashi said paralyzed. “He’s doing alright for now because of the adrenaline and his training, but… it’ll catch up to him quickly.” 

Iwaizumi clamped his shaking fist shut so hard that his nails dug into his skin. 

“What will happen to him?” he was speaking in a biting whisper now. 

“Fatigue, confusion, maybe hallucinations,” Takahashi said defeatedly. “Eventually a lack of blood oxygen destroys the organs and results in brain damage before…” 

_Death_. He didn’t have to say it. 

“At some point, he will reach that point of no return where the oxygen deficiency will be unmistakable and irreversible. In our line of work, we might call this a ‘go-no-go’ point. When this time comes, there will be no turning back and no further course of action will change the inevitable. But please, do not misunderstand me Iwaizumi, this moment will be my greatest personal failure and I wish with everything I have that it won’t come to pass but... it will.” 

Iwaizumi grimaced, bowing his head in absolute helplessness and frustration. Oikawa would die and he couldn’t do anything about it. He had always been the one that got Oikawa out of trouble, he had always been the wall that protected Tooru from danger and now he was completely powerless to keep him safe, to protect him, when he needed it most. 

“How is he now?” 

Takahashi just shook his head. 

“We’ve been trying to restore contact but it's not good. It’s probably already started.”

No…

“Will it hurt?” he asked, hearing his voice break. 

Iwaizumi heard shuffling behind him as Takahashi stood up, scuffing his chair behind him. 

“It’s just like going to sleep.”

“Good.” 

Iwaizumi wiped his hands down his face, removing any trace of his tears, and clapped both hands hard against the sides of his face. He needed to get it together. He needed to be strong one last time for Oikawa. If not now, then when? He wasn’t about to let Tooru down at the end after everything he had done all their lives to keep him safe. He couldn’t let Oikawa die alone and scared, he wouldn’t, that was what he could do for now. 

“Hey, Takahashi?” 

“Yes?” 

He turned one last time and laid his cold and steely glare on the NAL chief. 

“Work faster.” 

He slowly shuffled back to the monitor and took a seat in the swivel chair tucked into the table. 

“Oikawa?” he asked, picking up the phone again. 

He was able to hear some shuffling off screen but there was no answer. 

“Oikawa, are you there?” he repeated, leaning into the screen and holding the phone a little closer to his face. 

The tip of Oikawa’s face appeared in the corner of the screen. Iwaizumi felt his stomach drop as Oikawa—his Oikawa—stared directly into the screen with a tired and unfocused expression. Ghoulish dark circles beneath his reddened eyes had begun to appear, contrasting against his paling skin like a photonegative. There was something that was already vacant about his stare like he was looking at the screen but not quite comprehending what he saw. 

He seemed to glance absently at the screen before his eyes drifted away distractedly to something else behind the camera. 

“Tooru!” he barked into the speaker. “Answer me.” 

Again, Oikawa drifted back into the camera’s view, his mouth open and a confused and lost look plastered through his features. 

“Iwa-chan?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Yes!” 

Oikawa smiled. 

“Oh, it is you!” he chirped happily. “When did you get here?” 

Iwaizumi swallowed hard. He felt a cold bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. 

“I got here a little while ago, remember? We were talking about the stars and about graduation,” Iwaizumi said uneasily. 

Oikawa’s face rippled through a range of emotions before landing on a dazed and lost portrait of his previous self. 

“Graduation?” he repeated. 

“Yeah from high school,” Iwaizumi explained encouragingly, hoping he would be able to part some of the fog. “We were apologizing for our fight.” 

Oikawa raised an eyebrow and gave an unconvinced and disorganized sigh. 

“Oh, sure…” 

This was bad. Something was wrong. 

“How do you feel?” Iwaizumi prompted carefully. 

Oikawa pursed his lips and his eyes widened suddenly causing him to glance around the room frantically. “Where am I, Iwa-chan?” His voice sounded so small and muddled that Iwaizumi felt a hand grab hold of his heart and squeeze. 

He sounded exactly the way he had all those years ago, lost at the summer festival cowering beneath a stall table. 

“On the international space station. Don’t you remember launching?” 

“No,” he said softly. 

Bad. Bad. Bad. 

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice asked. 

“Yeah?” 

“When am I coming back?” 

Iwaizumi felt a hot burning in his throat as the sharp sting of tears fought to come to the surface of his eyes. Not now. Not now. Keep it together. Do it for him. 

“Soon, Tooru. Soon.” 

He smiled. 

“Good. I’m glad. I missed you Iwa-chan.” 

“Me too, Shitty-kawa.” 

The simple smile that came over Oikawa’s face felt warm and familiar. It had that same genuine easy happiness that he used to have when they were younger. It was like just for a moment, he was unburdened by the weight of everything else and was able to be happy again in the way that he had long since abandoned. 

Iwaizumi let himself remember, for just a moment, that night out on the hill; watching the stars and the light that Oikawa had in his eyes—seeing the innocent wonder that he had been full of back in those days. Life had been simple in those sickly-sweet, sepia-toned childhood nights. The painless nostalgia of catching fireflies, watching the stars, and contentedly enjoying each other’s company without a greater care or wish in the world. 

“How do you feel, Tooru?” Iwaizumi asked softly. 

He thought for a minute and then frowned, tilting his head down and shaking it back and forth angrily. 

“My head feels like it’s full of stuffing. I can’t think straight,” he complained, crumpling his face up uncomfortably. “It hurts Iwa-chan.” 

“It’ll be okay,” Iwaizumi promised melancholically. “The hard part is almost over Tooru.” 

“When will _they_ go away?” Oikawa’s voice quivered, glancing nervously behind him. 

“Who?” 

“Them,” he repeated anxiously without explanation. 

“Is there someone there with you?” 

He nodded. “There are sounds and people moving too fast to see them. Who are they?” 

_Maybe hallucinations_ , Takahashi’s voice repeated. 

“No one dangerous. Just friends trying to help,” Iwaizumi reassured him evenly, unsure of what else to say. 

There was no one else there and this meant the oxygen levels were even lower than they thought. Was this, at last, the point of no return? 

“It’s hard to breathe here Iwa-chan,” he said helplessly. “When can I leave?” 

“When you’re ready,” Iwaizumi promised, feeling the hand around his heart compress and pull the muscle tight. 

The tears came after that against his will and they didn’t stop. 

First, it was like rain and then it became a storm. It was sobs, it was screaming, it was shaking. He was angry, he was helpless, he was heartbroken, he was devastated. Oikawa was slipping away in front of him and there was nothing he could do. It wasn’t fair! Why did it have to be him? What had he ever done to deserve this? Why did he have to lose the things he loved over and over again?! 

“Hajime?” Oikawa’s voice asked, saturated with concern through the speaker. “Why are you crying?” 

Iwaizumi looked up and saw Oikawa’s eyes pressed close to the camera watching him intently.

“Because I’m sad, Tooru,” he admitted, wiping away his tears and heaving in a forced sniffle. “But that’s not important right now because all I want to do is spend this time with you, and that will make me happy again.” 

Oikawa smiled unreservedly, showing no fear. 

“Don’t be sad Iwa-chan,” he mused weakly. “Life is a lot better than you think it is.” 

He looked off-screen bittersweetly and then closed his eyes in a sudden harsh grimace doubling over and grunting in pain. 

His eyes shot back open and his back arched brutally with a strained wheeze followed by a flood of dry coughing. Iwaizumi could hear the agonizing rasping as Oikawa desperately gasped for air that wasn’t there. The coughing stopped and he looked up panting and confused, out of breath and unsure why couldn’t find it again. He was drowning and the worst part was that he didn’t know why. 

Oikawa’s eyes were big and glossy with a disoriented sting that seemed to be asking what was happening to him. 

“What were you looking at?” Iwaizumi asked gently, trying to provide some kind of distraction and peace. 

“J-Just out the window,” Oikawa answered breathlessly, stifling another cough. 

“There’s a window?” 

“Yeah, a little one.” 

“What can you see?” Iwaizumi enquired encouragingly. “Describe it to me.” 

It was quiet for a moment as Oikawa studied the sky and each moment of silence felt like torment to Iwaizumi who desperately wished only to hear Oikawa’s voice again. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s voice rasped with such excitement that it sounded painful against his dry throat.

“What?” 

“I can see it!” he cheered, “Gemini. There it is, just outside my window!” 

Iwaizumi felt himself melt. 

“And right at the top, Castor and Pollux!” Oikawa declared triumphantly. 

“Those are our stars,” Iwaizumi confirmed, smiling himself. 

“You and me forever. Just like them,” Oikawa said failingly. “That was the deal.” 

The ache in Iwaizumi’s chest reached a climax and a wave of anguish settled in. Every word Oikawa spoke was sounding weaker than the last. Iwaizumi realized this really was the end. 

If not now then when? Don’t be a coward. Takahashi’s words from when he had first arrived rang through his ears. 

_Who would you call if you knew it was the end?_

There would be no other time, no other chance, no other moment to be honest after this. Iwaizumi knew he needed to make use of it. Oikawa deserved honesty from him after all these years of white lies and unspoken promises. If not now, then when? 

He remembered the stars. He remembered the gym. He remembered the fight, the launch, the call, the pain. There was one thing that all of those moments had in common and now was finally the time to make it known. 

“Tooru?” 

“Yeah?” His voice sounded distracted and distant as he watched the stars glow from inside the capsule. 

“I need to tell you something,” he said, turning away from the screen and bearing down his weight onto his lap as he felt his heart pound and flutter. “It’s important. I-it's something that I have known for a long time… no, more than that, it's something that I have always known but never said. Please don’t be mad, but I need to say this.” 

Oikawa’s brown tired eyes scanned back to his screen and he leaned into the video, holding his breath feebly. 

“What is it Iwa-chan?” 

“Tooru, I-I…” He was stuttering. Why couldn’t he just say it? Why was he so afraid? Why did he let it control him even now…?

He grit his teeth and sighed disheartened. 

“Hajime?” Oikawa’s voice rang out steady and clear. “I need to say something too.” 

He sounded like his old self again.

Iwaizumi looked up. 

Oikawa’s eyes stared keenly through the screen and directly into his chest. His gaze was blunt and thoughtful; analytical and intensional exactly the way Oikawa’s eyes were supposed to look. There was something serious about his voice though that wasn’t entirely comforting. 

Iwaizumi wondered what had woken him from his trance and how long it would last. He’d heard stories of hospice patients on their deathbeds getting inexplicable moments of clarity before they passed. A final wind. The last chance to die without regrets and unfinished business. Was that what this was? 

Iwaizumi almost didn’t care though because the fog had lifted and Oikawa’s brown irises looked aflame and alive. This was Tooru again, his Tooru. Any time he had was a gift. 

“What is it?” 

“I love you Hajime.” 

——————————————————————

Iwaizumi sat nervously on his couch, absently chewing the nails on his left hand but only focusing on his TV screen with almost savant-level concentration. 

His heart was beating fast and without meaning to, Iwaizumi had started tapping his foot along to the beat, matching the speed and managing to increase his anxiety synergistically in the process. 

A live image of the Andromeda VII shuttle flashed across the TV showing the idle ship sitting, waiting, on the tarmac. The conical vessel was imposing and tall, sitting back on its engines on the launch pad with solid boosters on either side and a large external fuel tank strapped to its undercarriage. Iwaizumi stared in awe at the cap of the shuttle facing its destination above undaunted by the coming ordeal. It was ready and equipped to either take the crew up to the International Space Station or fail utterly in the process destroying everything and everyone on board. 

A prerecorded clip of the crew boarding the shuttle earlier that day—including none other than Commander Oikawa Tooru flashed across the news broadcast. 

Iwaizumi couldn’t make out his face or any details about how he might have changed since they last spoke at graduation, but that tall slim silhouette and that smooth swaggered stride was pure Oikawa.

The screen in front of him flashed back to the launch pad live stream as an announcement was made over a loudspeaker just far enough away from the reporters that its message was hazy and imprecise. However, by the way, the reporters began to rearrange themselves, it became clear that they would be preparing for launch. 

Iwaizumi’s heart fluttered inside his chest as he gulped down a hard breath of air and settled into his seat in silence. 

A countdown began on the screen like they were waiting to welcome in the new year, but Iwaizumi felt too sick with worry to find any joy in the anticipation. 

Oikawa had pretty much withdrawn from Iwaizumi’s life after their fight at graduation. For a long time, Iwaizumi had been livid with him for leaving him in the lurch like that, but he also came to admit how angry he was for his own part in it all. Years had passed now, both of them had gone and graduated from college and had been out of school and working for almost five years. Iwaizumi was nearing his 27th birthday which meant Oikawa would only be about a month behind him. 

The style and flourish Oikawa had always brought to volleyball, alongside his incredible analytical skills and his overwhelming tenacity had evidently served him well beyond high school. Iwaizumi had heard from stories and rumors over the years that Oikawa was thriving as an up-and-coming aerospace engineer studying in Tokyo and interning with Japanese aerospace laboratories. As conflicted as his surface feelings were about seeing Oikawa succeed so well without him, he also knew that deep down, he was happy for him. When the news came just after their 25th birthdays that Oikawa had been selected to join an elite team of new generation astronauts who would be relaunching Japan’s space exploration program, he had been beyond words. Space, the stars, the mystery, all of that had been Oikawa’s first love, even before volleyball. Iwaizumi was amazed and overjoyed that it had waited and come back to him after everything that had gotten in the way. 

The count down reached the bottom ten and the thrusters were igniting when Iwaizumi snapped back to reality. It was clear just from the video that the force of the engines was violently shaking the tarmac as the countdown approached zero. 

“ _It takes 37 million horsepower to launch a shuttle like that!_ ” Oikawa’s voice echoed in his memory, “ _It's the same as 28 full-power train engines or almost 800 tons of TNT_.” 

Iwaizumi cringed. 

Right now, Oikawa was sitting on the equivalent of a modified bomb. If one calculation was off, if one weather pattern or wind advisory had shifted, it would explode, and everything would end. 

“Five, four, three, two, one... lift off.” The voice on TV rumbled as the final engines clicked into place and reached their launch-go point of force. 

Fire erupted all around the shuttle as the boosters propelled the craft into the air. Scaffolding built around the shuttle fell away, crashing down to the ground and setting a chain reaction of nuclear force into motion. 

For a moment, only the flames caught his attention and it looked like his worst fear had come true. Images of fires, and debris, and screaming filled his mind as he imagined Oikawa consumed in the fire and falling back down to earth. Oikawa’s last words to him from so long ago resounded inside his head, haunting him and teasing him with nightmarish hallucinations of death. 

_But it looks like I became Icarus after all._

When Iwaizumi opened his eyes again, the screen displayed a video of the shuttle hurtling through the skies as a commentator’s voice praised the accuracy of the launch and confirmed it was performing well and was on track for docking at the ISS. 

Iwaizumi sank back into his couch, breathlessly folding into the soft cushions so deeply that he felt he would become one with the upholstered fabric. A painful breath wheezed out of him as he sighed a breath of relief and released a celebratory laugh and cheer shooting his fist in victory through the air as the shuttle disappeared into the stars. 

_Thank god_. Iwaizumi thought, feeling his muscles relax and his burning chest decompress and refill with oxygen. He shook his head in disbelief at the relief and deliverance he felt in that moment of singular and unadulterated joy. 

“Thank god,” he whispered to himself, eyes fixing back on the shuttle as it moved further and further from sight. “I’m not ready to lose you yet Castor.” 

——————————————————————

Iwaizumi’s heart stopped. 

“W-What did you say?” 

Had he heard that right? 

“I love you Hajime,” he repeated, creasing his brow sincerely, and using every last bit of his strength and his concentration to make himself clear. “Since the beginning. I’ve been a coward all along, and I am so sorry that I wasted the time we could have spent together.” 

He bit his lip and turned away in pain. 

“I’m sorry that I waited so long to say it, but I knew you wouldn’t feel the same and I knew you were amazing and would do great things if I stopped being selfish and stopped holding you back.” 

“T-Tooru…” 

“I love you and so I let you go so I wouldn’t drag you down with me. Please forgive me.” 

This time Iwaizumi felt like he was the one drowning. His throat closed and everything began to spin around him fantastically. 

“Y-you IDIOT!” Iwaizumi screamed, launching to his feet and slamming his body against the control panel. 

Oikawa flinched through the monitor and looked down in shame. “I-I’m sorry Hajime, I knew y-you wouldn’t feel the same but I-“ 

“Shitty-kawa, shut the fuck up,” he was crying again. 

Oikawa looked up at him through big remorseful eyes. 

“I love you too you absolute motherfucking idiot!” 

Was he crying or laughing now? The wires were crossed and it felt like every emotion at once. Shock. Relief. Disbelief. Grief. Joy. It was a mess and every circuit in Iwaizumi’s brain broke down and overloaded as he smiled through the strangled cries. 

His tears were falling and for the first time today, he didn’t try to keep them in. 

This was their moment, together, and he was going to feel every last second of it. 

Oikawa’s face fell and then leaped with delight. 

“Such a rude confession, Iwa-chan!” He laughed through a curtain of tears that trailed out of his eyes and floated up inside the capsule carried away by the vacuum of space. “I thought you were a romantic now!” 

“Wrong as usual, Trashy-kawa.” 

Oikawa was quiet for a minute. 

“D-Did you mean it?” he asked delicately with an air of pitiful acceptance. “Cause if you just said it for my sake, because… well because this is the end, then you should know you don’t need to.” 

“I’ve never spared your feelings before, why on earth would I start now dumbass?” 

He just laughed. It was weak and forced and sounded raw and painful but his smile never faded from his face for a second. Oikawa looked up and pressed his hand to his screen. Iwaizumi reached out and touched his hand over Oikawa’s. 

“I have loved you since we were kids,” Oikawa said, staring deeply through the screen. “I never knew what it was but I figured it out for the first time that night on the hill. You mean everything to me Hajime. I tried and failed to say it so many different ways at so many different times but it was never right until now…” 

“Shitty timing as usual dumbass,” Iwaizumi laughed, brushing a tear off of his cheek. 

“I wasted so many years trying to distract myself from what I felt. I dated so many people that I knew could never be you because I was afraid of what would happen if you knew…” 

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” 

Oikawa just chuckled painfully. He recoiled slightly and coughed breathlessly into his sleeve, gasping shallowly for a breath.

“Tooru!” Iwaizumi yelled into the phone careening his body towards the image as if there was anything he could do. “Are you okay? Just breathe, please!” 

The choking and heaving continued until finally, his voice began to even out and his body stopped convulsing violently against the pressure of the cabin. 

When he looked back over to Iwaizumi, the ghastly and greying hue of Oikawa’s skin sent a shiver down his spine. He looked dead. The effort it took to breathe was clearly increasing and Iwaizumi could tell from the bluish shade his lips were taking on, that the oxygen rates were plummeting. 

“Y-you worry too much Hajime…” Oikawa’s voice smiled through a sniffle. 

Iwaizumi just shook his head. 

“This isn’t fair Tooru,” he said miserably. “You don’t deserve this. We don’t deserve this. We needed more time together. We deserve that at least after all that we’ve been through together.” 

“No one is unbound by the red string of fate Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mused in a low dreamy murmur. “All of the great heroes met tragic ends. Maybe that is why their stories lived on after them… Do you think a great life or a tragic death makes for a better story Iwa?” 

“I don’t care about the story, I care about you.” 

“Same thing.” 

Oikawa smiled tranquilly as his weary dark eyes closed. 

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi demanded feeling every nerve ignite. 

No answer. 

“Oikawa!” 

His brown eyes fluttered open weakly and for a moment inhaled depthlessly. 

“Jesus! Don’t scare me like that Tooru…” Iwaizumi cursed as he slapped his hand against his chest for a reminder that his heart was still beating. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly. “I was just rehearsing.” 

“Rehearsing?” 

“For the final act Hajime,” his voice ruminated pensively. “That’s where the best stuff always happens. It’s the most dramatic one.” 

“Don’t talk like that Tooru,” he pleaded, “We both just confessed so don’t think you are getting out of this that easily. You hear me?” 

Oikawa gave an uneasy smirk before an abrupt shudder tore through his body. 

“It's cold Iwa-chan,” his voice shivered, teeth now chattering, as he pulled his long arms around his torso protectively. “It's getting dark…”

“Please don’t leave me Tooru!” 

Oikawa just shook his head and leaned back, wretchedly reclining against a support pillar in the center of the capsule. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” he groaned, laying his body out against the beam. 

“You and I already have a promise,” Iwaizumi reminded him. “You and me forever just like Castor and Pollux.” He thought for another second and then added, “but this is our story, not theirs, we get to decide the ending. ” 

“That’s what they thought too.” 

Silently Oikawa turned his eyes back onto the window beside him. Iwaizumi could see the slow and laborious way his limp body moved despite the look of wistful hope he clung to inside. 

“You know, for a long time, I thought I was Castor between the two of us,” Oikawa said gloomily. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes opened wide. 

“You once told me that you hadn’t decided which one you wanted to be and then one day you called me Pollux and I thought that meant you had finally made up your mind.” 

“I thought so too,” he said bluntly, “but I think I was wrong Iwa-chan.” 

“How so?” 

A sly smile slid across his lips. 

“I’ve been thinking that maybe I was actually Pollux this whole time— now I’m sure.” 

“What changed your mind?” 

“Don’t you remember the story? Castor died and Pollux protected him by giving a piece of his prize to save his brother’s life,” Oikawa recalled sleepily. “You’ve always been like my protector, Hajime. So I always assumed that meant I was Castor: destined for tragedy; and you were Pollux: fated to save me from my demons, but I had it mixed up from the beginning.” 

“Is this not tragic enough for you?” Iwaizumi begged dismally. 

“Sure, but I’m not the one in pain Iwa-chan. I am not the one who suffers here the most.” He turned to Iwaizumi with a stone-cold stare. “After this, I get to sleep and the pain stops. I lived my dreams and made my mistakes and saw amazing things and in the end, I even got to share your love… and that is not a tragedy, Hajime. That is the best story I could ever write myself.” 

“Tooru… don’t…” 

“You have to keep living after this, and I think that will probably hurt you most of all,” Oikawa continued, interrupted by a breathless rasp. “I still think you are the real romantic between us, no matter what you say. You feel things so deeply and you blame yourself for things other people do. Please don’t blame anyone but me though. This is not your fault, this was always going to happen.” 

“P-please stop…” 

“This is my monologue Hajime, just give me this one last thing, let me be selfish one last time—every good hero gets one before the curtain closes,” Oikawa insisted. 

Iwaizumi laced his fingers together writhing and pulling the joints until they ached, redirecting the pain. Trying to find an anchor. 

“I was Pollux all along Iwa,” he said, his voice glittering hopefully in spite of the unfathomable fear and pain of knowing your story is on its final page. “L-Let me keep my promise. Let me share my immortality with you so that way we can stay in the stars t-together forever.” 

“I don’t want immortality, I want you Tooru!” 

“You’ve had enough pain for one lifetime,” Oikawa scolded him lovingly. “I am giving you permission to live and dream again. I want to be the one that saves _you_ for once.” 

His head tilted back easily and a tear streaked down his pale face as a strangely peaceful sadness settled over him. 

“I want to be brave and give you everything Hajime so please, please just take it and run. Let me be selfish. Let me be brave. Become immortal, choose to live an eternal life that burns bright and long, and stop living for yesterday. I’ve held you back long enough. No one is promised tomorrow, so live today.” 

“But I love you Tooru,” Iwaizumi shrieked. “Please don’t leave me!” 

“We’ll be together again,” he chided easily in an ethereal whisper. “I’m just going first, and when it’s time, you’ll join me again and tell me your story... We’ll shine so bright Hajime, I know we will. I will keep our promise. Forever.” 

“I’m scared, Tooru,” Iwaizumi admitted, grabbing his shirt in his fist and twisting the fabric nearest his chest feeling his skin pucker pink as his nails bit against his ribs. 

He just wanted to hold Tooru in this moment. He wanted to feel him, to soothe him, to touch him and make him know the feeling of love.

“D-don’t… be,” his voice soothed between uneven breaths. “It’s not something to be afraid of… It’s just the next step. I won’t be alone… I am only g-going where so many have already gone before me. It’ll be like going home, see?” 

“I’m not strong enough…” Iwaizumi begged, letting his voice crack open. 

“It’s not about strength C-Castor. Don’t you know that all good stories are just about people doing the best they can with what they are given? No one is ever given everything they need. Trying is courage enough.” He almost sounded amused and at peace. “If you ever get lonely… just look up at our stars and know that is where I will be rooting you on until the end.” 

“Tooru?”

“Yes. Hajime?” 

Iwaizumi felt his eyes lower and his jaw harden as a gaping fissure opened inside him. 

“Why have you always liked those old stories so much?” 

Oikawa thought for a moment letting his eyelids lower by degrees over his glassy dark eyes. 

“Because the heroes in these stories were damaged and flawed beings from the start. They made mistakes, they were guilty of pride, and wrath, and all the cardinal sins that usually make people the villains, but they were still heroes in the end. I-I always thought that... well, I would like to live in a world like that too. I would like to be loved despite my imperfections. A world where people like me can be heroes and can be worthy of love is a beautiful dream indeed Hajime.” 

“I love you Tooru. You are my beautiful dream.” 

“I-I love… you t-too Hajime. I-I hope one day, you will find another and tell me all about it.” 

Iwaizumi could hear how painful it was for Oikawa to breathe and how hard he was fighting to stay awake. Every breath sounded like agony and suffering; Iwaizumi’s heart broke at the thought of Tooru—his Tooru—being in that kind of pain.

“Just breathe Tooru baby, I’ll be alright. Everything will be alright. I’m here now and I always keep my promises. That will be my new promise to you, okay?” 

Oikawa nodded stiffly and poured all of his remaining strength into a comforting smile that Iwaizumi burned into his memory knowing it would be his last. 

“You’re okay now,” he promised horrified by the excruciating effort that Tooru was using to say goodbye. “You can rest now baby. The pain is over.” 

He hated to hear those words come from his own mouth—It felt like giving up—but he hated the sight of Oikawa in pain by orders-of-magnitude more. 

“O-okay,” Oikawa breathed slowly and peacefully as his eyes slipped closed and his head rolled back. “T-the stars are s-so…bright, C-Castor…they’re s-so…” 

Iwaizumi heard Oikawa’s last breath leave his lips and watched as his body went limp. Then, just as Takahashi had predicted—he fell peacefully into a deep final sleep. 

Hajime knew it was time. He felt the final page close and the curtain start to fall. It was over. 

A surreal and indescribable pain seared through his body, ravaging every nerve and threatening to burn him and crush him from the inside out. His body was wracked violent with sobs as he heaved and convulsed morose raging wails. The cries wrenched up from the depths of his throat landing into his own chest while he held himself and rocked slowly knowing that his other half was dead and he was now both immortal and alone. 

“Good night, Pollux.” 

——————————————————————

Oikawa Tooru died on a Tuesday afternoon. He was 27 years old and he was loved. 

The team at the NAL had to build an entirely new tool to unlatch the compartment hatch needed to retrieve his body. It took them four more days. Four days that required them to leave his body floating lifelessly in the vacuum of the capsule long after the last of the oxygen had run out. 

Commander Oikawa Tooru was delivered home to Miyagi Japan where the NAL ensured that he received every honor he was due for his dedication to his mission and his service to the country. 

He was buried in his uniform along with a blue medal of valor tucked between his fingers. 

The rest of his crew from Andromeda VII and many faceless NAL officials attended his funeral. They cried and gave sad speeches and did everything that they were supposed to at a funeral and then at the end, they got in their cars and went home. 

Iwaizumi could not cry. He could not give a speech and he definitely could not go home. 

His home was gone now. 

After every other mourner had left the memorial, Iwaizumi stayed hunched over in a chair, watching Oikawa’s gravestone, guarding it like it was the most precious treasure on earth. 

Those long nights watching the stars, playing volleyball, celebrating graduation, and even launching into space felt like they were memories of a different life now. Each one of those days now held a tainted sort of sourness that ruined Iwaizumi’s every attempt to find the silver lining in a senseless world. 

“You know, they say that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” Came a familiar voice from behind Iwaizumi. 

He turned mechanically to see Takahashi standing there clad in all black as straitlaced and expressionless as always. He wore a dark wool overcoat and carried a walking stick and a black top hat like some kind of cartoon millionaire. 

“Well I’ve done both now, so I can tell you unequivocally, they both suck,” he answered, turning his eyes back to the grave. 

“He was a hero,” Takahashi ventured. 

Iwaizumi huffed out an embittered breath. That word had lost its magic. 

“He was an idiot and an overdramatic little martyr with a hero-complex at best,” Iwaizumi spat angrily. 

He was saying things he didn't mean but he had so much anger inside him now that he didn’t know what else to do with it. He couldn't keep it in. He couldn't lash out the way he really wanted to. He didn’t even know who he was most angry with in the end. There was nowhere to lay his anger and it felt like it was burning him from the inside out. What do you do with the love you have for someone when they aren't by your side to take it anymore? 

“But you loved him?” 

“More than my own life.” 

“Then maybe you ought to quit sulking around, Iwaizumi Hajime, and keep that promise of yours.” 

Iwaizumi looked behind him, mouth wide open. 

“H-how do you know about that?” 

“Did you really think I cared so little for him that I wouldn’t find out about his last words?” 

Iwaizumi found himself shaking his head bitterly. 

“You really are one heck of a boss, Takahashi,” Iwaizumi sneered. “If only you had been so competent and committed to saving his life in the first place.” 

Takahashi looked down at him with an understanding and sympathy for his pain that no one else could give him. 

“Commander Oikawa made his choice. He had every opportunity to leave that capsule and end the Andromeda VII mission in the process. He refused.” 

“Maybe that would be more surprising to you if you knew anything about him,” Iwaizumi shot back. “He was never the kind of guy to choose himself over his goal. The dream always came first with him. He would put everything into getting the things he set his eyes on; even if it meant destroying himself in the process.” 

“So he followed his dreams and fought for the things he wanted, is that what you’re saying, Iwaizumi?” 

Iwaizumi frowned and buried his face in his crossed arms. 

“Hrmph,” he hummed, his voice muffled from his own grip around his chest. “I guess.” 

“He wanted you to build yourself a life as I recall,” Takahashi said reminiscing. “He wanted you to live like you were ‘immortal’ I think was his word, did I get that right?” 

Iwaizumi didn’t have the patience for this. 

“What do you want from me?” 

“I want you to hold up your end of the bargain Iwaizumi,” his eyes were serious but something warm and soft seemed to be radiating out from inside. “I want you to make his dreams your dreams. I want you to live the life you promised him you would. I am here to hold you to that promise.” 

“‘Make his dreams mine’ huh?” Iwaizumi huffed. “So what, do you want me to join the NAL or something?” 

“You could. I’d make room for someone like you with both the passion and the strength to fight for the people closest to him,” Takahashi admitted. “But really, I want you to think hard on what you actually want out of your life?”   
“What I want?” Iwaizumi said incredulously. 

“That’s right, have you ever even given it a single thought?” 

“I-I…of course, I have,” he said, turning his back and staring holes into the grass at his feet. 

In truth, Iwaizumi had always struggled with that question. So much of his life had been based on Oikawa. Even when they had been apart, the knowledge that Oikawa was living and thriving had always given Iwaizumi some amount of pleasure and satisfaction enough so, that he had never felt as truly alone as he did now. So who was he on his own? What did he really want? He had no idea. 

“I’m glad,” Takahashi said, closing the top button on his jacket, placing his top hat on his head, and tapping it down with a little pat for emphasis. 

Iwaizumi watched the twinkle in his eye and the little smirk on his face. 

“The real question here Iwaizumi,” he said turning his back and giving his walking stick a smooth full spin in his hand. “Now that you’re immortal, what do you want to do with your life? You’d better make sure it’s a good story too cause I’ve heard someone is waiting to hear it.” 

——————————————————————

That moment in the graveyard changed Iwaizumi Hajime’s life. 

Every day after that meeting, he woke up and asked himself what he wanted and what it would take to get it. He chased every dream and fought for every goal like it was the last thing he would do. Driven by a desire to squeeze every drop of pain and wonder that life could hold for him, he tried to live the life that he had promised he would. In doing this, Iwaizumi came to understand what it really meant to live an immortal life and make the most of every day before it slipped away and became meaningless in your clutch.

In many ways, his life became harder and longer after he decided to take the helm. There was no longer an easy out or a simple excuse to shield him from the pain of being. He held nothing back and refused to hide even though that meant feeling everything that life had to offer—the good at the bad. In the end though and through the grace and privilege of time, it all just blended together and became the story that he called his life. He himself had become a story in the end and he couldn't wait to tell it. 

By the time that Iwaizumi was on his deathbed some odd 60 years later, he was surrounded with picture books full of his travels and souvenirs from his highest highs and his lowest lows. Portraits of every loved one in his life were stacked around him filling his room with light and love—including a now-faded picture of himself next to a young brunette missing a front tooth carrying a blanket and a pair of binoculars ready to go look at the stars. 

His tired time-worn eyes gazed peacefully across every memory, every relic, he had to show for the adventure he had made of his life and he smiled knowing that the memories and stories he had made along the way had become his greatest treasure. 

The warmth wrapped around him as he shut his eyes, slowly feeling the peace and the comfort that the darkness brought. It really did feel like he was going home, and in light of this, he was not afraid. 

A hand touched his shoulder. It was soft and gentle and when he turned to look, he saw two kind soft eyes that smiled at him and welcomed him. 

“You made it, Castor.” 

“I missed you, Pollux.” 

The brunet smiled and Iwaizumi took his hand. Looking around he saw the shimmering brilliant light of a million million stars and planets and living breathing galaxies. 

“It’s exactly like you said it would be,” Iwaizumi murmured in awe of the radiant spectacle around him. 

He felt his eyes focus on two bright lights over his head moving in close together, converging, until finally, they were together again. For the first time in his long life, Iwaizumi saw the beauty in their motion and finally understood the poetry of the stars. 

“Forever in the stars, just like we agreed,” he smiled, moving his gaze down from the sky. 

“You and me forever,” the man agreed, squeezing his hand and pulling his arm in close. “Hey, Iwa?” 

“Yeah?” 

Tooru’s eyes softened and twinkled with the light of every star around them. Iwaizumi found himself wondering if Oikawa knew he outshone them all. 

“Tell me your story.” 

Iwaizumi’s lips parted into an effortless and eternally grateful smile. 

“Where should I begin?”

“Ha! From the beginning of course!” his love cheered, “But Iwa?”

“Yeah?” 

“Does it have a happy ending?” 

Iwaizumi wove his fingers through Tooru’s and held his hand feeling his warmth and the soft kiss of his skin. Finally, he could feel him, soothe him, touch him, and make him know the feeling of love in the way he wasn’t able to before. 

They had spent their entire lives out of sync. Fear, doubt, jealousy, and the cruel hand of fate had always gotten in the way. But no more. This was a second chance and Iwaizumi meant to make the very most of it and live immortal _together_. 

This was peace. This was love. This was everything he had ever wanted. 

“Yes, it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies." - Edna St. Vincent Millay 
> 
> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! If you have any thoughts or feelings after reading this I would absolutely love to hear them!!
> 
> Please leave a like or a comment it would mean a lot to hear your reactions!! Xx


End file.
